


Push It

by thepinupchemist



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Porn, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aromantic Peggy Carter, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Peggy Carter, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bottom Steve, Bottom Steve Rogers, Cunnilingus, F/M, Forehead Kisses, Lingerie, M/M, Making Out, Multi, Pierced Peggy, Pierced Steve, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Steve Rogers: The Bisexual America Deserves, Steve Sandwich, Tattooed Bucky, Tattooed Peggy, Tattoos, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, everyone in lingerie, kinda subby steve, tattooed steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 18:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5675935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepinupchemist/pseuds/thepinupchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve owed back rent and didn't have a job. He decided to join up on as a model on a pornographic website his roommate Peggy already did work for -- and now, somehow, was standing in lingerie with Peggy and a local guy from the website, Winter Soldier.</p><p>This is honestly just a cracky pornfest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kirstenthedestroyer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirstenthedestroyer/gifts).



> This is a commission for one of my dearest friends. I hope she's pleased with herself.
> 
> If you want to hit me up, my MCU/stucky tumblr is sergeantscarlett.tumblr.com.

**Soundtrack: Tony the Beat – The Sounds**

**_Push It_ **

Steve wasn’t getting into porn, exactly.

Well, okay, fine. He wasn’t getting into porn _videos._

They were just pictures, all right?

Steve owed rent, and Peggy did this thing online and made tons of money on a site called AlternativeAngles.com, where people with tattoos and piercings and interesting features took off their clothes and posed in next to nothing or nothing at all.  Members of the website voted on pictures. More votes meant more money, if a person gained the user votes it took to be one of the site's models.

Before anything, Steve had to submit a set of initial pictures for the AltAngles community to vote on. If Steve's photos hit five hundred votes, then AlternativeAngles would take him on as one of their models and he could start raking in money the way that Peggy did on the side.

Which was how Steve ended up naked on his couch, holding a strategically placed watermelon, and being photographed by his best friend. He needed money, okay? And this…seemed harmless. Everyone involved got involved on a voluntary basis. Models and website members could quit the instant that they felt uncomfortable; Peggy had told him as much when Steve expressed concern over her joining the AltAngles team in the first place.

“I never needed to see this,” Sam said from behind his camera.

Steve sighed, “I know.”

“I am a photographer for National goddamn Geographic, and this is what I’m reduced to.” Sam took pictures of birds for a living. Snapping nude pictures of Steve amounted to something a little less exciting than crawling over cliffs and trees for the money shot, but Steve trusted almost no one to take good pictures of him but Sam.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, “Look, Sam, I don’t have any skills. There’s a good chance I can make some money doing this, and I’m gonna take it. I owe you, I know.”

“Dinner,” Sam replied, “You owe me dinner. Though, usually, dinner comes before the clothes come off. Never do it the regular way, do you, Steve?”

“Sorry,” Steve muttered again.

“And what about your art, huh? That’s a skill,” Sam said.

Steve groaned and tore his eyes off of Sam. He heard the snap of the shutter as Sam took another set of pictures. Steve didn’t know how to feel about the fact that he was going to look annoyed in every one of his pictures because his best friend didn’t know how to leave well enough alone. Steve shifted, careful to keep the pressure of an entire watermelon away from his crotch, and said, “I draw stupid cartoons for people online. I don’t make any money doing that. I mean, I sort of do. But not enough.”

“Yeah, but you could.”

“There are lots of great artists out there,” Steve said.

“Yeah, and the ones that put themselves out there are the ones that make it,” Sam answered, “I think I got enough of these fruit pics. What else did you need?”

Steve sighed again and said, “I’m supposed to submit a full frontal photo.”

Sam rolled his eyes skyward and said to the ceiling, “The Lord is testing me,” and then, “All right, get rid of the melon. Let’s go take some dick pics next to the bookshelf. This dinner better be good, Rogers. I am telling you. Better be _damn_ good.”

Steve rolled the watermelon to the side. His face went hot as he shifted up to his full height. Sam refrained from teasing him about the blushing, which was nice. He knew he blushed, and he knew he didn’t look like the kind of person to blush over everything, or the kind of person to be shy, or even the kind of person to be posing for a pornography website.

He looked wholesome at first sight, or so his friends said. Then folks got close and saw the whole all-American good looks tarnished by a ring in his lip and a stud in his nose, or he went without long sleeves and people stared at the spirals of color and ink that curled down his biceps all the way to his wrists. Steve ran a nervous hand through his hair. Sam’s shutter clicked.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Sam said, “The internet is gonna love this shit.”

“I hope so,” Steve said.

Sam barked out instructions on ways for Steve to pose in front of his book collection, a shelf stacked with science fiction novels and trade paperbacks of his favorite comic book series. He listened – lowering his shoulders, shifting his legs apart, leaning his head against the bookshelf. Everything Sam asked, because Sam had a Real Job and functioned like an Adult, while Steve was about to submit naked photos of himself to some website in hopes that he could make enough money to cover his overdue rent. Peggy couldn’t cover his ass forever. Well, no, she probably could, but Steve didn’t want to let her.

After Steve pulled a t-shirt and some sweatpants on and he and Sam ordered Chinese takeout, every photo on the SD card that he and Sam agreed looked good was a candid: Steve casting his annoyed stare at the wall while he held a watermelon over his dick, Steve blushing and running a hand through his hair in front of his books, Steve laughing at some dumb joke that Sam made.

The sound of keys turning in the door broke through the hemming and hawing over naked Steve pictures.

“Smells good in here,” Peggy greeted. She, as always, looked like a million bucks. Peggy liked to dress in pinup-style dresses, liked to put up her hair like girls painted on the side of World War II era planes, liked to slip on shoes that could kill a man and paint her lips red. She prodded at one of the white takeout containers on the kitchen counter and said, “I hope you left some for me.”

“Wouldn’t think otherwise,” said Sam, “We’re choosing Steve’s dick pics if you’re interested.”

“ _Sam_ ,” Steve complained.

Peggy plucked up one of the containers and a clean fork from the towel beside the sink. She perched on the back of the couch, took a bite, and let Sam click through the photos of Steve in the buff. Steve reddened and covered his face with his hands. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him nude before. They lived together, after all – and sometimes, maybe, they had sex. Steve wouldn’t have minded calling Peggy his girlfriend and taking her out on dates. In fact, he’d enjoy the hell out of it. But she didn’t roll that way, and he knew that. She valued her freedom, and Steve valued her friendship (and occasional tryst with him), so he didn’t complain.

None of those facts changed that Steve’s two closest friends were scrolling through naked pictures of him while eating takeout, or the fact that even after all they’d been through together, he was embarrassed by this.

“Stop,” Peggy said. She pointed her fork at the computer screen, “Go back one. Yes, that one. That one’s gorgeous, Steve.”

Steve peered through the spaces between his fingers. On the computer screen, Steve stood in front of his bookshelf, embarrassed, one arm hanging at his side, and his other running fingers through his hair. The light from the window filtered in over his body and bathed Steve and the bookshelf in an early afternoon glow. Pink spread over his cheeks and to the tops of his ears.

“You’ll get the votes you need if you choose that one,” Peggy said, and took another bite of takeout. She somehow managed to avoid spilling anything onto her white, cherry-printed dress. Steve wondered how she did that.

“All right,” Steve said, “Let’s go with that one. I need two more.”

Sam kept clicking.

“Steve!” exclaimed Peggy, “I told you not to desecrate any fruit. It looks like you’ve put a melon on your cock.”

“It wasn’t _on –_ ”

“Oh, that one’s lovely. Not quite as lovely as the other, but it’ll do,” Peggy interrupted as Sam kept clicking, “You’re a sure thing, I believe. AltAngles’ll probably want pictures of us together, once they find out that we live so close.”

“You have to take pictures with other people?” Steve asked. A lump formed in his throat at the idea. He could probably do pornographic pictures with Peggy and be okay, but what if they wanted pictures of him with other people, too? Strangers? Steve didn't do so hot with new people in awkward situations. Getting naked with strangers hit the awkward premise pretty dang hard, if you asked him.

“Oh, not if you don’t want to,” Peggy said, “but partner pictures – or pictures of a slightly more pornographic nature – make more money, so lots of models do them. I’ve done a couple with some of the models that live around here.”

“You have?” Steve said.

Peggy slid a pointed look at Steve. “How do you think I’m paying my rent and yours?” Peggy asked.

Steve turned red all over again. “Right,” he said. That was why he was doing this. He owed Peggy for the months she’d spotted him rent money. Not that she would ever make him feel bad about it (at least on purpose), but Steve paid his debts. He didn’t want her covering his ass when she could use her money on herself.

After Steve lost his job tending bar at a place further into town (he called out too many creeps, got into too many fights), Peggy stepped up to the plate, and he couldn’t afford to refuse her offer to cover his half of the rent. He made pocket change drawing commissioned pictures for people on the internet, but not nearly enough to pay bills.

So, Steve was getting into porn, apparently.

**X**

**Alias: Captain America**

**Joined: 01-03-2016**

**Gender: M**

**Sexuality: Bisexual**

**Pictures: 3**

**Upvotes: 1264 Downvotes: 23**

“I can’t believe you called me Captain America,” Steve said at the computer screen, without glancing at Peggy where she sat on the couch beside him, watching some forensic science documentary in her pajamas.

“I asked you what you wanted to be called, and you didn’t answer,” Peggy replied, “If it makes you feel any better, my alias isn’t any better. It might be worse.”

“Agent Carter ain’t so bad,” Steve said. He typed her alias into the AlternativeAngles search bar and her profile surfaced immediately. Peggy’s profile picture was a photo of her standing profile to the camera in powder-blue lingerie and platform heels, smiling into a bouquet of flowers. The angle and lighting showed off the intricate peacock tattoo that ran from hip to knee on her left thigh. No wonder she made so much money doing this – just looking at the one picture made Steve hot in his skin.

**Alias: Agent Carter**

**Joined: 11-17-2014**

**Gender: F**

**Sexuality: Bisexual, Aromantic**

**Pictures: 62**

**Upvotes: 7861 Downvotes: 153**

“Who the hell is downvoting you?” Steve said, “You’re a knockout.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Peggy answered, “I can’t explain it. Some people have impossible standards. But look at how many upvotes you have already! You haven’t been online for even a week. They love you. Have you checked your photoshoot offers yet?”

“How do I do that?” asked Steve.

Peggy scooted over on their couch and leaned her head on his shoulder. She pulled Steve’s laptop halfway onto her flannel-clad leg and hovered the mouse over a camera icon in the top righthand corner of the webpage. She said, “See, you already have three offers. Let’s see who we have. This one’s your solo welcome shoot; you should accept that.”

Steve let her click on the ‘Accept’ button underneath the details of the photoshoot.

“Oh, gross,” Peggy said, “This one’s from Red Skull. I’ll reject it for you. He’s a nasty man. But this is promising! Oh look – they’ve invited me.”

“Who’s Winter Soldier?” asked Steve, squinting at the details of the shoot. _Lingerie shoot for three!!! Preferred models: Captain America (welcome!), Agent Carter, Winter Soldier._

“He’s fairly quiet, but a nice man,” Peggy replied, “I’ve done two shoots with him before. He’s almost as respectful as you are, Steve. Go ahead and search him. You’ll see.”

Steve took the laptop reins back and typed _Winter Soldier_ into the search bar. The profile picture that graced his screen had him parting his legs already. Underneath his computer, his dick went hard, uncomfortably so. Steve bit down on his lip and tried to keep it together, but damn, that photo.

From a couch, a sloe-eyed man stared up at the photographer, lips turned up in something close to a smirk, but not quite. His photo ranked far more obscene than either Steve or Peggy’s with his tattooed thighs spread wide open and a hand on his cock, flushed red and thick. His other hand held long, dark hair out of his face. The hand in his hair was prosthetic, a replacement arm that went all the way up to his shoulder.

“He’s a vet?” guessed Steve.

Peggy nodded against his shoulder, “Two tours in Iraq. At least that’s what he told me.”

Steve clicked on the profile.

**Alias: Winter Soldier**

**Joined: 05-31-2012**

**Gender: M**

**Sexuality: Bisexual**

**Pictures: 242**

**Upvotes: 7201 Downvotes: 1876**

Steve frowned at the downvotes. He said, “Why would anybody downvote him? He’s so handsome.”

Peggy cast him a fond smile and said, “I’m not sure that’s the word one uses for a photo like his.”

“Why not?”

Peggy just shook her head and said, “You’re a sweet man.”

“I’m just telling the truth,” he replied.

Before Steve accepted the photoshoot, he poked around at other profiles near him. He pulled up one of a dark-haired man wearing nothing but a labcoat, whose chest had a long scar over his heart, but clicked out when he read it ( **Alias: Iron Man Sexuality: Straight)**. Others looked interesting because the photos were more artwork than pornography **(Alias: Vision Gender: Fluid)**. More still made Steve want to peel off all his clothes and touch himself **(Alias: Thor Sexuality: Heteroflexible)**.

When Steve clicked back to the photoshoot page, he saw that Winter Soldier had accepted the shoot. Steve smiled at that, a little giddy, and accepted, too.

Two hours later, after Peggy discovered the hard-on he’d been trying to hide under his laptop and they lay side by side in her bed, his phone vibrated. Steve punched in his code and saw a notification from AltAnglesApp. He glanced down at Peggy, who lifted herself up onto her elbows to kiss him slow and deep.

_Agent Carter has accepted **Lingerie shoot for three!!!**_

**X**

Steve’s welcome-to-the-website photoshoot took place before anything else. He drove out of the city and to a remote wooded area with Peggy for moral support. Posing naked in the forest in winter and sitting bare-assed on tree stumps and fallen logs didn’t count among the most comfortable that Steve had ever been in his life, but it wasn’t bad. When his profile jumped several hundred more upvotes at the addition of seven woodsy nudes, it seemed worth it. Steve watched his bank account balance fill a little more every day. He would have enough money for this month’s rent. Soon there would be enough to pay back rent.  

The night before he and Peggy were due to show at a studio in Brooklyn for the lingerie shoot, Steve browsed through the photos that Peggy had already done with Winter Soldier.

Some photos were sweet, artistic pictures. Steve made sure to upvote one of Peggy with her arms wrapped loosely around Winter Soldier’s waist, both of them naked and bathed in sensual yellow lighting. His forehead was pressed to hers, and the long brown hair that hung free in his profile photo was tied up in a careless knot in this shoot.

Others were –

Well.

More intense.

“Wait, do we have to have sex with this guy?” Steve called over his shoulder, where Peggy, brilliant roommate that she was, stood cooking a meal for both of them to share.

“Found that photoshoot, did you?” She asked, throwing a coy smile over her shoulder.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck and peeked at the picture on his screen. Winter Soldier was dressed (well, half-dressed) in a World War II-era uniform and Peggy as a pinup in polka-dotted retro-style lingerie. The bottoms of Peggy’s underwear lay discarded on the floor. Winter Soldier’s fly was open, and she was riding the thick cock that Steve had _not_ spent time thinking about in the shower. He hadn’t.

“Gosh, you guys are beautiful,” Steve breathed.

Peggy appeared behind him and ran her fingers through his hair. She said, “You always give the sweetest compliments, Rogers. That was my first sex shoot. He was a perfect gentleman. But to answer your question, no, we’re not going to be asked to have sex, unless we want to. The shoot said ‘lingerie shoot’ not ‘sex shoot’. They’d have specified.”

“I’m guessing sex shoots make more money?” ventured Steve.

Peggy kept raking her fingers through his hair. Steve leaned into the touch. She answered, “Typically, yes. That’s why I tried it. I’d done photoshoots with him before and I trusted him. He was very professional – always asked if something was okay before he did it, even when the photographers specified what they wanted us to do.”

“Seems like a good guy,” Steve murmured.

“He is,” answered Peggy.

That night, Steve slept in Peggy’s bed instead of his own. She sensed his nervous energy, the apprehension at the prospect of taking naked pictures with a man that he had never met before, and as Steve slid under the covers, Peggy pulled down his pajama pants and sucked the nerves right out of his dick. He reminded himself to ask how to do that thing she did with her tongue, because he’d like to have that trick handy someday.

Steve returned the favor – he held Peggy’s hips in his big hands and guided her to ride his face, licked up inside her until she shuddered with pleasure and fell onto the mattress beside him. Steve and Peggy didn’t always cuddle – Peggy wasn’t as much of a cuddler as he was – but tonight she looped her arms around Steve, kissed his forehead, and said, “Breathe, darling.”

“I’m tryin’, but somebody was on my face a second ago,” Steve snarked back.

Peggy laughed. They fell asleep with smiles on their faces.

**X**

Steve combed his hair to the opposite side, decided he disliked the way it looked, and combed it back again. The bathroom mirror showed him a nervous man. He hoped that came across the way that it did in his original pictures and welcome photoshoot, as shyness instead of the tilt-a-whirl of anxiousness Steve actually felt. He wanted to do this, he did, but he wanted to do it right.

Peggy stuck her head in the bathroom and said, “Steve, you know they’re just going to do your hair at the photoshoot, right?”

Steve’s face went hot and he answered, “Yeah. Right. I knew that.” At his welcome shoot, the photographer just mussed Steve’s hair with her hand and called it a day. But then, that shoot was supposed to look more natural, maybe. This shoot was in a studio, with lights and makeup people and some specific brand of lingerie that they were supposed to be pimping.

“We’re going to be late,” Peggy said.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” Steve said. He held up his hands and exited the bathroom, searching his bedroom for his combat boots. He sat on the edge of his bed and laced them over his feet. Steve threw his military-style coat over his shoulders before he followed Peggy out of the apartment, and waited for her to lock the door behind them.

They took her Jeep to the shoot. Steve wasn’t a bad driver – he was just an angry driver. “You’re high-strung enough as it is,” Peggy told him succinctly in the apartment parking lot, and hell, Steve couldn’t argue with her on that point.

The building Peggy drove them to was nice, nicer than Steve expected. He didn’t think of AlternativeAngles as a shady underground operation as he pictured it when Peggy first started with the website, but a lobby dripping with marble and sleek glass surprised him. He drank it in, from the art on the walls that seemed to be not printed, factory-made art manufactured to match couches, but paintings by somebody real, to the high ceilings. There were chandeliers.

“Nice, isn’t it?” asked Peggy.

“Yeah,” Steve managed. He sounded breathless even to his ears.

Peggy guided him to the elevator. It took them up several floors, to a hallway that looked like it belonged more to a modern office building than a pornography website. Peggy had to take Steve’s hand and steer him, just so he’d stop staring at everything surrounding him. The new environment at least distracted him from his nervousness and desire to do his first group photoshoot the right way, whatever way that was.

“Guys, they’re here!” somebody exclaimed, when Peggy pulled Steve through a door toward the end of the hall.

High, unfinished ceilings hung overhead. The room wasn’t crowded, but several people milled around. One such person – a dark-haired woman with doe eyes – took Steve’s free hand and said, “All right, handsome. You’re with me for makeup. Steve, right? I’m Darcy.”

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Steve said.

“Oh, my God,” Darcy said, “Peggy wasn’t kidding. You’re like something out of 1945.”

“Thank you?” Steve said, unsure.

“We’re gonna have to use a shit ton of gel for your hair,” Darcy said, “They’re giving you guys helmets.”

“Helmets?”

“Like World War II army shit,” Darcy said, “Jacket and shirt off, please. Don’t wanna mess up your hair after I’m gonna spend a year on this crap.”

Steve obeyed and shed his jacket and t-shirt in fluid movements. He moved to drape them over the fold-out chair Darcy led him to, but before he could, somebody said, “I’ll take those,” and whisked Steve’s clothes away and out of sight.

“Nervous?” Darcy guessed, when she turned back from her makeup counter with product in her hands.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck and said, “That obvious, huh?”

“Don’t sweat it,” said Darcy, “Everyone gets worried the first couple of times. This is your first group shoot, right?”

“Yeah,” replied Steve, “At least I got Peggy.”

“Girlfriend?”

Steve chuckled and said, “No, no. She doesn’t do dating. She’s just a really good friend that I, um. Sleep with sometimes.”

Darcy squeezed something out on her hands and swept her fingers through Steve’s hair. She started to shape it like she was working with clay. The gel was sticky and itched a little, but Steve figured if they had helmets they had to take on and off that she had to make his hair hard as a rock so that it wouldn’t move in the pictures. After she worked his hair into shape, she moved onto putting stuff on his face. She didn’t use much, just “enough to highlight his features”, but it still felt strange on his skin.

“Sweet. Let’s get you dressed,” Darcy said.

Steve padded along behind her. She stopped at a rack of lingerie and a couple of dressing screens. Steve didn’t know how much privacy he really needed if he’d just be taking his clothes off later, but the thought seemed nice. Maybe these AltAngles people were decent folks, after all. He already decided since his welcome shoot that the AlternativeAngles were at least _not bad_ , but Steve thought he might be starting to like them.

Steve might like his porn job.

Amazing.

“I’m thinking blue for you,” Darcy said, “Hey Jane, you got Barnes, right?”

Another woman stuck her head out from behind one of the privacy screens. She said, “Yup. I already gave him the red set.”

“Coolio,” Darcy replied, “That leaves the white for Peggy. All right, sexy, here’s your outfit. You can change wherever.”

Darcy flicked a hanger off of a rolling rack and pressed a couple of pieces of lacy fabric into Steve’s hands. He held them up and tried (and failed) not to blush. Darcy had handed him a pair of lacy blue panties with a matching garter belt, and black stockings. He asked, “Am I supposed to wear shoes?”

“Yeah, all of you are in combat boots. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Panties now, boots later.”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Steve. He ducked behind one of the dressing screens and hung the lingerie over it. He unbuckled his belt and slid it out of the loops and realized that his nerves had faded into adrenaline, and thought he might actually be excited.

The feeling of being not-embarrassed lasted an entire thirty seconds, before Darcy called, “Hey, Cap! You need something to get your dick hard?”

“Um,” he managed, “No, thank you. I can do it.”

Steve undid the laces of his shoes, stuffed his socks inside them, and set them aside against the screen before he peeled off his jeans and draped them over the top. He plucked up the hanger and stared. It wasn’t that he’d never worn something like this before, because he had – mostly because Peggy told him to, and he listened to her when they were in bed together. Steve still had to acclimate to the idea that a room full of people would watch him wearing...this. He unclipped the garter belt from the hanger and put that on first, hooking it in the front and twisting it rather than trying to hook it blindly behind his back.

The blue lace panties felt surprisingly soft when Steve slid them up over his legs. Even without touching himself, his cock got hard at the feeling of soft lace stretched over it. His half-erection pressed out of the panties and his toes curled. He just prayed he didn’t come on panties that didn’t belong to him.

The stockings proved to be more of a struggle than the other pieces. He hopped, one-footed, into one of the black sheaths, and fell over himself with a crash. The thud sounded and the room beyond the privacy screen went utterly silent, until Darcy’s voice said, “Uh, you doing okay back there, Steve?”

“Fine,” he replied, and pushed himself up to his feet. One stocking down, one to go. He continued, “I’ve never put on stockings before. But I got it. I’m good.”

“All right,” Darcy said, but she didn’t sound certain, “Just say the word and somebody can help you.”

“I got this,” Steve said again.

The second stocking was easier than the first. He kneaded his toes once they were on, and came out from behind the privacy screen. He didn’t see Peggy, but he did see a familiar face, one that he had seen on his laptop screen but not beyond it – Winter Soldier. The guy saw Steve about the same time that Steve saw him, and dragged his eyes over Steve’s body.

Okay, fine. Steve did it to Winter Soldier, too. His lingerie looked like Steve’s only his lace was red instead of blue. He looked incredible, even more incredibly in person than he did on the computer. And damn, he’d looked good on the computer. Winter Soldier's body was lithe and sinewy, less muscled than Steve himself, but defined enough that the lines of his body dipped like arrows to the red lace that barely contained a thick, interested cock. Steve swallowed the knot in his throat and said hoarsely, “Hi. I’m Steve,” and stuck out his hand.

A slow grin spread over Winter Soldier’s face. He took Steve’s hand and shook with, “Bucky.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Steve said.

“Likewise,” Bucky said, “You know you’re supposed to clip the belt to the stockings, right?”

“Oh, um,” Steve blushed – again.

“I got it,” Bucky said. He knelt in front of Steve, and Steve thought, _this is it_ , _this is how I die._ The handsomest guy he’d ever seen was kneeling inches from his half-hard dick, helping him affix his garter belt to his stockings, and Steve was going to take pictures with him like this.

Bucky was beautiful. His dog tags were tattooed to his flesh arm, surrounded by other tattoos in different styles, done at different times by different artists. Steve’s sleeves had all been done by the same artist. Bucky wasn’t pierced like Steve or Peggy, but the tattoos and prosthetic were more than enough to give him the alternative look that the website demanded.

Steve couldn’t help the erection that started to grow the longer he stared at Bucky as he clipped Steve’s stockings. Bucky chuckled a little, and Steve turned ever-redder. He said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean, um –”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky said, and straightened to his full height – just a little shorter than Steve – “You’re supposed to be hard for the shoot anyway, and it’s not like a handsome guy gettin’ worked up over me is a real hardship.”

“You too,” Steve said, and winced at himself, “I mean…you’re handsome too. You’re beautiful, actually.”

“Ho, snap,” Darcy said, appearing at Steve’s shoulder, “Did you just make _Winter Soldier_ blush?”

“Shut up,” Bucky said, but his cheeks were pink. Steve cracked a smile.

Thankfully, Peggy saved them from an extended awkward moment. She appeared with hair done up in victory rolls and deep red lipstick, all complimented by a lacy white garter belt and matching panties. She, like Steve and Bucky, went topless, her breasts bare and nipple piercings glinting under the bright studio lights.

“Looking good, boys,” she greeted.

Bucky replied, “You’re not so bad yourself, Carter.” He winked, and Steve melted, despite the fact that Bucky’s wink wasn’t even for him.

There was a flurry of movement as staff handed them all combat boots and ushered them toward the set. Studio lights shone down on what appeared to be an expertly built set of fake rock and bedrolls laid out in front of a green screen. Darcy shoved a helmet in Steve’s hands and said, “Don’t do anything with that until Bruce tells you to.”

The photographer – Bruce, apparently – squinted at the three of them as they laced boots up over their stockings. Steve forgot to be embarrassed in hustle and bustle of it all, with Darcy, Jane and a third woman flitting around the set and fixing small details. Darcy poked at Steve’s rock-hard hairstyle and brushed his face with some kind of powder. He sneezed.

“All right,” Bruce said, “Let’s start with the helmets on. I want Peggy in the middle to start. Peggy, face the camera head-on. Steve and Bucky, arms around her back and hold onto each other.”

Steve obeyed and held the cool metal of Bucky’s prosthetic arm. He offered a crooked smile to Bucky, whose face had gone serious within the minutes of Bruce’s instruction. Lights flashed and Bruce snapped photos.

“Good, yeah, Steve, keep looking at Bucky like that,” Bruce instructed.

“Like what?” Steve said.

Peggy chuckled from between them and said, “Like you want to eat him. Or want him to eat you. I imagine you’re not very picky about that, are you?”

“Peg,” Steve said, exasperated.

Under Bruce’s watchful eye, they shifted together, until he instructed them to take off the helmets and fussed with strategically placing them on the set. When he returned to the camera, he went on, “Okay, Peggy, I need you to face Steve. Steve, I want you to cup her breast but I want you to kiss Bucky.”

Oh, God. Steve backed off enough to let Peggy draw toward him, cheating to the camera. He cast her a questioning look and she smiled in return, jerking his hand to her breast, where he teased her nipple with his thumb. Christ, he was so hard. The desperate hope not to ruin the panties he was modeling resurfaced and doubled when Steve caught the heated look in Bucky’s eye.

Steve lowered his head to kiss Bucky, but stopped to ask, “You all good?”

“Fine, Cap,” Bucky replied, and winked again.

Steve’s face heated. He ducked his head down to capture Bucky’s lips in a kiss to distract him from the easy-blushing. A surprised noise made it out of his throat when Bucky’s hand came to rest on the back of Steve’s neck and Bucky slipped him the tongue. He fell into it as easily as anything, pressing his tongue back against Bucky’s, tasting him, exploring Bucky’s mouth while he played with Peggy’s nipple.

“God bless America,” Steve heard Darcy’s voice say someplace beyond the lights.

Interest thickened Steve's cock under blue lace, hardened close to an edge Steve didn't know he'd been riding. His cock rested up against Peggy’s belly through the lace, and that was bad enough as it was. He moved into her, thrust his cock up against her body before he realized what he was doing and snapped back from Bucky’s mouth and Peggy's arms with a, “Oh, jeez, I’m sorry.”

Peggy laughed and said, “No worries, darling.”

“God, okay, I might need a second,” Steve said. He pulled back from Peggy and Bucky and fought the urge to run his hands back through his gelled hair.

“We can do something about that,” Peggy said, folding her arms beneath her breasts and cocking a brow at Steve’s erection.

Steve blinked from the vague silhouettes of the makeup and photo team beyond the lights and back to his scene partners. He said, “Is this a sex shoot? I thought it wasn't. I’m so confused.”

“The shoots are open-ended,” Bucky replied, stepping out from behind Peggy, “Like, any of them can include sex if we want. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m hard as a fuckin’ diamond and if I don’t do anything about it, it’s possible I might die here in red lingerie.”

Peggy cast a look over her shoulder at Bucky, something that Steve thought looked a whole lot like her _not helpful_ expressions that she gave Steve when he was being an idiot. She said, “I’m up for anything. Steve?”

“Um. Yes?” he said, “Yes, that sounds good.”

Bruce emerged from behind the camera and said, “Now that we got that out of the way, where do you guys want to be? Darcy, can you move the rock prop back a little? Thanks. Before I get back behind there, you need to negotiate positions.”

“I can be in the middle,” offered Peggy.

“No,” Steve said.

Several pairs of eyes turned to look at him. Steve almost lost his nerve. He said, “I mean, we can do that. But I, um. I kind of prepared for…if I needed to…”

“Steve,” Peggy said, a smile stretching her lips, “Is that what took you so long this morning? You were fingering yourself open for us? Naughty boy.”

Steve glanced from Peggy to Bucky, whose grin stretched over her face with the look of the cat that got the cream. His eyes roamed over Steve with renewed appreciation, and God, Steve would do anything to feel Bucky look at him like that all the time. He stepped forward into Steve’s space and said, “Haven’t been on top for a while. Sounds good to me.” Steve got the feeling that the words were for the whole room, but Bucky’s eyes didn’t stray from Steve’s as he said them. Bucky reached out and touched Steve’s chest, dragged his fingertips down the skin with the lightest pressure.

A shudder rolled through Steve’s body.

Bruce broke the spell. He said, “Sounds like Bucky’s fucking Steve and Steve is fucking Peggy. Is that what I’m getting here?”

Right. This was business. This was Steve’s job.

“You are correct,” Peggy answered.

“I, uh,” Steve forced the words out, “I might need a little more lube. It’s been…it’s been like an hour and a half, and…”

“We should get photos of that,” Bruce said. He snapped his fingers and pointed, “Lube and condoms are under the rock prop. Steve, who do you want to do the honors? You can do it yourself, or –”

“I’ll do it,” Bucky offered.

Steve licked his lips and nodded. His mouth was dry as he said, “That sounds good. Yeah, okay, that. I don’t wanna, um. I don’t wanna ruin the panties, though.”

“They’re yours; don’t worry about it,” Bruce said.

“I’ll take them off for this, if it’s all the same to you,” Steve said. No one objected, so he unclipped the garter belt from his stockings and eased the blue lace down his legs and over his combat boots. He lifted his gaze in time to watch Bucky and Peggy doing the same, and he didn’t know who to watch. Both of them were so gorgeous, Bucky’s chest already wet with a film of sweat, Peggy’s breaths making her pierced breasts heave. Steve fumbled to get the clips right again. When he finished, he lifted his head to see Bucky's heated eyes rolling over him and something like pride in Peggy's smile.

Bruce was behind the camera again. He ordered, “Steve, lean up against the rock prop. It’s padded.”

Steve watched Bucky lift the thing up and retrieve the goods from underneath it. He jerked his head at the rock when he saw Steve watching, and Steve lowered himself against it obediently, legs sprawled out over the bedrolls, back to the rock prop. Bucky knelt beside him, bottle of lube in hand, and said, “Hey, pal, you gonna be okay for this?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered, “I’m great. Just nervous.”

Bucky rubbed over Steve’s arm with a gentle hand and said, “Just relax. I do anything you don’t like, you tell me right away, and I stop.”

“Peggy did say you’re a real gentleman,” Steve said.

Bucky chuckled and replied, “She did, huh?” and poured lube into his palm. He tucked the lube bottle and string of condoms underneath a bedroll for the photo’s sake, and eased Steve’s legs apart. Vaguely, Steve was aware of Peggy lowering herself next to him. She kissed his cheek and scratched her manicured nails over the back of his neck. He relaxed at the sensation, at the familiar perfume of Peggy, of her practical soap and skin, the scent of her arousal a thread braided within the rest.

Just as Peggy cupped Steve’s face and drew him in for a kiss, he felt Bucky’s slick fingers brush against his entrance. He whined into Peggy’s mouth and she stroked her knuckles down his face, soothing as Bucky’s finger breached Steve to the knuckle.

“Bet you could take another finger, couldn’t you?” she murmured.

Steve pulled his attention from her to Bucky, who was looking at him for confirmation, and he gave an impassioned nod. Steve managed to get out, “I’m – I’m still pretty open. Just need a little push.”

Bucky smirked. He withdrew his finger and pressed two inside. Steve let his head fall back against the padded prop and groaned. He knew the blush on him now was full-body, from his ears to his face to his chest, the kind of pink Steve got when he got desperate to be touched and played with. He leaned up to kiss Peggy again, panting and gasping into her mouth as Bucky thrust his fingers in and out of Steve’s body.

“More,” Steve whimpered.

“Go on,” Peggy said.

Bucky saluted her, and three fingers worked inside Steve, wet and perfect. Bucky’s hand moved, searching –

“ _Fuck_ ,” Steve said emphatically, when Bucky massaged against his prostate.

“We’ll get there,” Bucky told him, “God, you’re so open. I can’t wait to fuck you.”

“I want some solo photos of Steve with his legs spread,” Bruce said from behind the camera, “Back off for a second.”

The abrupt feeling of cold suffused the air. Steve whined and let his head fall back against the prop.

“That’s good,” Bruce said, and then, “Lift your knees a little.”

God, Steve should have felt awkward being so open and on display, but instead, a thrill ran through him at the sound of the camera shutter. Here he was in a blue garter belt, erection red with desperation and leaking against his stomach, ass open and ready to be fucked, and he _wanted_ people to see it. He wanted to show off what he could do, wanted to be spread out and open-mouthed across the computer monitors everywhere.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” said Bruce, “All right, Steve, I need you to stand up. I think the easiest way to make this happen is to sit Bucky where you were –”

“And he rides me reverse cowboy and Peggy rides him,” Bucky finished, already back on the set, “We got it, Bruce.”

Bucky offered Steve his hand, and Steve took it, letting Bucky’s strength pull him to his feet. Bucky rested a hand on Steve’s cheek and said, “Y’already look all fucked-out, Stevie.”

“I wish,” Steve said, “I need to come so bad.”

“I know you do, doll,” Bucky said, “You will, but only after you show the internet what you can do, huh?”

Steve nodded, because he didn’t know what else to do. He watched Bucky spread himself out for the camera, smirk on his face, before he reached under one of the bedrolls and tore off a condom. He unwrapped it and rolled it over his cock with expert, professional efficiency, and lubed himself up in the same manner: squeeze, slick, smirk.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Steve said. He forgot to be quiet. The entire studio heard his declaration.

Bucky’s smirk fell a little, replaced by an unreadable expression. He said, “Jesus, Steve.”

“I’m just being honest.”

“Well, be honest on my dick, would you?” Bucky ordered.

Steve scrambled to obey. He stepped over Bucky’s legs and knelt with his back to Bucky’s face. Bucky held his cock at the base with his prosthetic hand and rested the other on Steve’s hip, a firm guide to where Steve needed to be. The hot press of a thick cock against his rim made Steve hang his head, his breathing heavy.

Bucky slid into place inch by inch. When Steve was fully seated, so full, so fucking full, Bucky sat up and pressed soft, teasing kisses to Steve’s shoulder blades and back, and the side of his neck. Against the shell of Steve’s ear, Bucky murmured just loud enough for Steve to hear, “You need me to stop, you say so, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve said, “Don’t stop, please.”

“You got it, Cap,” Bucky said, and he thrust sharply up inside Steve.

A shameless moan tore out of Steve. He could hear the cameras snap and he let Bucky guide him into the best positon for them to capture pictures, held him up with his body half-on, half-off Bucky’s cock, before he pushed into him again, thrusts shallow. Bucky’s hand left Steve’s side and Steve cried out in complaint.

“Hang on,” Bucky said, “We need to get you wrapped up for Peggy.”

“Right,” Steve said. He sat back on Bucky’s cock and held still while Bucky tore open a second condom with the same expert movement as the first. He took Steve’s cock in hand and pushed the condom down with the other, breaths coming quick against Steve’s neck and ear.

“Jesus, you are hung,” Bucky muttered.

A startled laugh made it out of Steve’s mouth. He turned his head and drew Bucky’s lips into a heady kiss, pushing his tongue against Bucky’s with enthusiasm.

Peggy’s hips swung as she approached. At first, she crouched beside Bucky and Steve and stroked the back of Steve’s neck. She pressed a kiss to the center of Steve’s forehead and said, “Don’t you look lovely like that? Do you like feeling Bucky’s cock inside you?”

Steve moaned.

She kissed him on the mouth, then, and Steve wondered if she could taste Bucky on his tongue. Both Peggy and Bucky tasted so good that Steve could cry, each their own flavor, each kiss a different technique. He struggled to contain his noise as Bucky sucked kisses into the skin of his shoulders and Peggy worked at his mouth. He felt her body heat as she settled with one leg on either side of him, but she didn’t lower herself down. No, she teased, pressing down close, and then pulling back.

“Peggy,” Steve gasped, “Please.”

“Please, what, darling?”

“Please _ride me_ , damn it,” Steve said.

Bucky and Peggy both laughed a little at that. Peggy took Steve in hand and sunk down, down, down, until her heat enveloped Steve entirely. She yanked Bucky up to kiss him beside Steve’s head and if Steve thought he could have died from the sight of Bucky in red lingerie, he didn’t consider the possibility that might get to watch Bucky in lingerie kiss Peggy in lingerie like a starving man, his prosthetic covering her breast, plucking at the silver bar through her nipple and making Peggy gasp.

Steve lowered his head to Peggy’s other breast and lapped against the nipple. He bit down lightly and her nails dug deep into the meat of his shoulder.

“Beautiful, you guys,” praised Bruce, from behind the camera, “Keep…doing what you’re doing.”

“Real eloquent, Bruce,” Bucky snarked. Steve’s chest shook with silent laughter, but the laughter was punched right out of him as Bucky fucked up into him. Holy shit.

The earth seemed to drop out from under Steve as Bucky moved inside him and Peggy ground down on him. He couldn’t stop his noise anymore, the gasping, letting whatever words came to mind fall from his lips. He chanted, “Beautiful, both of you, so beautiful…”

“Christ, Steve, you wanna talk about beautiful,” Bucky heaved, “Look at you. Takin’ cock so good, so pretty, takin’ pussy so nice.”

Steve kissed Bucky so he’d stop talking. If Bucky uttered one more filthy word, Steve would come, and he didn’t want to yet. He wanted to desperately – but he didn’t want this to be over. He wanted to be between Bucky and Peggy, both of them kissing every inch of his skin, fucking and riding him, pushing and pulling, and –

“ _Fuckfuckfuckfuck_ ,” Steve managed to get out. He bucked his hips up and came, hard, harder than he ever before, with Peggy hot and tight around his dick and Bucky pounding into him.

Bucky redoubled his efforts, arms tight around Steve. His body slammed to into Steve’s and he muttered filthy things against Steve’s ear. He muttered about how good Steve felt, about what a good job he was doing, and he thrust harder, fucking into Steve like nothing in the world was more important than this. Peggy leaned in and kissed Steve, her tongue running along the inside of his teeth. He’d come already but somehow he felt like Peggy and Bucky were taking care of him, making sure that he got his.

A soft exhale against Steve’s shoulder and Bucky slumping backward into the padded prop behind him signaled Bucky's own orgasm, and the body beneath Steve went pliant and relaxed.

“Peggy needs to get hers,” panted Steve, unwilling to move from the spot, “C’mere,” he said to her.

Peggy eased off of Steve’s soft cock. He inhaled at the sensitivity of his cock sliding out of her body, but didn’t have long to focus, as Peggy’s tangy, aroused scent closed over him, and she stood with her legs on either side of Steve’s face.

“You want Steve to take care of you, sweetheart?” Bucky asked from behind Steve, voice hoarse.

“I want both of you,” Peggy answered.

Steve shifted just enough to see Bucky’s smirk. He watched Bucky rest both hands on either of Peggy’s hips and took Bucky’s glance at him as a cue to press his face close to Peggy’s pussy, licking up along her opening in familiar strokes, sucking on her clit with familiar pressure.

“On your left,” Bucky rumbled. He slid two prosthetic fingers up next to Steve’s face and pressed them inside Peggy.

Peggy made a strangled noise, and God, did Steve love that noise. He loved hearing what noises he could tease out of her. Her body moved into Bucky’s touch and Steve’s mouth, wet and searing. Choked moans and halting gasps erupted from her, and Steve knew that she was close. He worked harder, buried his face against her, clutched her ass with one hand and drew her as close as she could get.

“Oh, Steve,” she said, and he felt her body clench, tasted her orgasm on his tongue.

They were still taking pictures, but Steve paid little attention to the cameras as he guided Peggy to sit back on his lap. She rested her head against his chest and her breasts heaved with every inhale and exhale. He seldom saw her lose her cool, but this might count among the times. Steve kissed her, loved that he knew she could taste herself on his mouth. She kissed back, seized control, and Steve mewled.

“Goddamn,” Bucky let out.

Steve startled. He realized his and Peggy’s combined weights were pushing down on Bucky, and he asked, “You all good? Sorry, I know I’m kinda heavy.”

“Doll, two of the hottest people I know are making out in my lap,” Bucky said, “I have never been better.”

From beyond the cameras, Steve heard Bruce’s voice shout, “Great! That’s a wrap.” The studio lights switched off and overheard lights blinked to life, bathing them all in a dimmer, cooler glow. Steve still didn’t move right away, just waited, until Peggy drew her body away from his and peeled the condom off of him.

“I think my brain left my body,” Steve said.

“Yeah, through your dick,” Bucky agreed, stroking fingers along the substantial girth of Steve’s tattooed bicep.

“No kidding,” Steve said.

Peggy offered her hand, which Steve took. He allowed himself to be heaved up and off of Bucky. The sensation of Bucky’s cock pulling out of his body made him almost sad. He wanted to feel that sensation forever, perhaps minus a little of the sweati- or stickiness.

When Steve paid the same favor to Bucky and offered a hand, he looked almost surprised. He took Steve’s hand and Steve lifted him. Bucky stumbled forward into him, face smacking against Steve’s chest. Steve looped his arm around Bucky without thinking about it, and put his lips to the top of Bucky’s head.

Bucky jerked his head up and met Steve’s eyes. Something studious held Bucky’s eyes, turned down his lips. Steve waited for Bucky to come to the conclusions he needed, let him drink his fill in of Steve’s probably-pink and sweat-damp face. Bucky broke their stare-down first. He lowered his eyes to the floor and a soft laugh escaped his lips. He said, “You’re a little weird.”

Steve shrugged and said, “You don’t have room to talk, pal.”

Bucky laughed harder, “No. No, I don’t.”

The hair and makeup staff brought them robes, and as Steve pulled his in place over his shoulders, Darcy asked Peggy, “You remember where the showers are?”

“Just down the hall,” Peggy replied.

“Yup. We’ll leave everyone’s clothes just outside.”

The showers didn’t have front doors but were made up of individual stalls separated by intentionally rough-stone walls. The spray of warm water was never more welcome to Steve as it was then, washing the salt and grime from his body and pulling it down the drain. He lingered under the flow of water longer than strictly necessary, enjoying the feel of it against his sore muscles, until he felt like he’d overstayed. He didn’t want to be rude, so he switched off the water and pulled a towel down from the shelves of white towels near the shower room door.

Steve dressed, and found both Peggy and Bucky waiting for him outside the shower room. They walked back to the studio, bodies closer together than they needed to be. Steve loved the feeling of the closeness, though he mused that non-cuddler Peggy might be throwing him a bone with her hand on his arm, while on his other side, Bucky seemed to need the proximity as much as Steve did. He tucked himself under Steve's arm.

“You guys did great,” Bruce said, when they reentered the studio, “Especially for your first group shoot, Steve? That was awesome. The pics’ll be up on your profiles by this evening, but I bet you anything this is a bonus paycheck kind of shoot. You had some real chemistry out there, you know? You three okay with doing another shoot together in a couple weeks?”

They expressed their willingness to do so, and Bruce clapped his hands together before he said, “Great, great. I’ll send you the invites tonight after I finish touching up the photos. You guys are free to go. Congrats on the job well done.”

In the elevator to the garage, Steve said, “I can’t believe I just had sex for money.”

Bucky clapped him on the back and said, “You get used to it, pal. Hey, what’s your number?” He held up his cellphone.

Steve fired off the numbers, and Bucky said, “Cool. I’ll text you or something.”

Steve smiled, “I’d like that.”

**X**

In the garage, Bucky parted from Steve and Peggy with a lingering kiss to Steve’s still-swollen lips, and a gentle hug to Peggy. He waved, and Steve waved back, dazed, a little. Peggy had to pull him along like she had before the shoot, and he followed her, like he always did.

Just as Steve opened the door to Peggy’s Jeep, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

_Unknown Number 14:32: Dinner sometime?_

Steve beamed at the screen.


End file.
